


nothing is forever , and forever is nothing

by P1DGIE



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Domestic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, They are totally in love, ah fuck im bad at tags, errr, f slurs in love, probably gets angsty, urmm, well add more tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P1DGIE/pseuds/P1DGIE
Summary: gerard just moved to a new town. on a trip to the furniture store he meets frank, a short motherfucker whos just about the only person gerard can (nearly) stand. but will it last?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	nothing is forever , and forever is nothing

**Author's Note:**

> hey!!! if u read this then tysm woo <33 pls leave kudos and shit that'd be really nice. 
> 
> this will probably be updated really randomly but we do have more chapters in the works!  
> also we don't ship frerard and this just us writing a fic cause we're bored,,, this isn't meant to be invasive or anything? but yeah, enjoy! 
> 
> cw for cursing and a kinda nsfw joke.

gerard was sat, alone, in his bedroom once again. the darkness that surrounded him was interrupted only by the occasional stroke of lightening that forced its way into the room. the rain outside clung to the windows, like the tears on his cheeks. a soft melody was playing from the record player situated in the corner of gerards room, allowing his thoughts to be distracted, if only for a few minutes a time. 

the music soon came to a stop, the only sound remaining in the room being the gentle ticks of a clock and the soft pitter patters of the rain. gerard got up, walking over to his desk and sitting down as he turned on his small lamp, retrieving his special black notebook and a pen. he opened it to a new, fresh, clean page, and let all of his thoughts, all his feelings, every little thing that ran through his head, spill onto the page. he was instantly calmed, the familiarity of all this really helped. 

once the boy had finished, he stuffed everything back into the drawer it came from and he got into bed, well, a mattress, on the floor, and fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

*

he woke up in the morning tired as shit. it was probably his fault for having so many late nights, but it still didn't put him in a good mood. after contemplating whether or not he should go back to sleep, he groaned and sat up, wiping the drool from his mouth and squinting in the 7am sun coming from his windows.

he walked across the bare floorboards to his suitcase, situated on the other side of the room. it was the only thing in there besides the table, mattress and a small chair. he flipped open the lid to see a spare pair of jeans and a couple extra shirts. he had really under-packed, considering he had to live here now. sure, the rest of his stuff would get dropped off eventually but that would be a while yet and it was gonna be pretty hard making do in a tiny empty apartment with only a couple things of his own.

he missed being at home; having his comics and posters and all the random shit he kept in his room. but it wasn't his room any more, was it? this was his home now. and it was totally devoid of anything that could make it the slightest bit his, no difference between this and any of the other goddamn empty apartments in the town besides his notebook and record player. fuck, he really needed some furniture.

once gerard was dressed, he walked across the hall to the bathroom - his bathroom - with the intention of brushing his teeth. of course, he'd been so wrapped up in saying goodbye when he'd left he'd forgotten to pack one. this was going well. he set off to the kitchen, glancing at his reflection in the small bathroom mirror behind him. the teal roots of his black hair made him look especially pale, and his eyes looked sunken and tired. he couldn't tell if it was from his late nights or his makeup from the days before. it was probably both. 

he stepped into his kitchen and decided to make toast. he yawned as he walked over to the counter, pulling out two slices of the fresh, white bread and popped them into the toaster that the previous owners had left here. the toaster looked kinda sketchy, though he was too tired to care much about it. he decided to play a game on his phone as he waited, and that's how he ended up furiously wafting a tea towel at the fire alarm a few minutes later, trying to get it to stop. 

he tried to revive the toast, but by the time the fire alarm had shut up and he'd managed to get the burnt bread out of the toaster, it was far from edible. gerard sighed, cursing under his breath as he gave up; the world clearly wasn't on his side today and the more things he tried to do, the more likely they'd go to shit.

he pulled his jacket on and set off to the store.

*

it took longer to get there than he'd hoped, getting lost on roads that were all the same to him. he could've sworn the town had five of the exact same book store but, thinking about it, he was probably just walking in circles and he wasn't paying much attention anyway. he also had a habit of turning a corner every time he saw someone who looked the slightest bit friendly (which compared to gerard was a lot- he wasn't exactly a people person). still, eventually he found himself at the furniture store he'd driven past and was greeted by the hot rush of air from the over door heaters.

“hey, my name's frank, how can i help you?” came a voice from next to him. he jumped slightly, looking over and seeing a boy around his age, if not younger, behind the counter. 

“oh, i err…” gerard said, trailing off “bed! I need a bed.” he cursed himself for stuttering, hoping this frank guy hadn't noticed. all the recieved in return was a grin as frank jumped over the counter, walking over to the bed section. “so, it all depends on what kind of bed you want, really. got any ideas?” frank asked, looking back at gerard. 

“just...a bed?” said gerard, confused as to how there could be different types. they were all just beds, right? frank was still looking at him expectantly. “i ju- i just want a bed, man. a cheap one, preferably.”

“finally, we're getting somewhere.” frank chuckled, smirking slightly as he stared at him. “i mean, do you want a hard one, or a soft one?” the look on the older guy's face was priceless, his jaw dropping open as he registered what frank had said. “well? hard, or soft?” 

“um..err..” gerard stuttered, his face growing warm with the awkwardness of the situation and no idea how to respond to that. he'd never been flirted with before– was this even flirting?– and was basically clueless as to how he the hell was meant to act.

“the beds, i mean. look, come lay down on this one and you'll see.” the younger laid down on a bed, patting the space beside him. “this is a hard one, i think they're for if you have like, back problems n stuff? im not sure, i never paid attention.” he got up, pulling the man by his arm over to another bed, laying down on it again. “this one is a soft one, so much fuckin comfier.

"so, which is it?” he asked, looking at gerard or sumn idk 

“i-i think ill go with, um, soft?” gerard was now aware that he didn't actually need a mattress- he already had one in the apartment- but he couldn't bring himself to tell frank that, and so he quickly picked out a bedframe to go with it and bought them both. 

“do you want us to deliver them to your place?” frank asked, now back behind the til as he handed him his bank card back. 

“you can do that?”

“mhm, ill even deliver it myself if you want me to.” he smirked slightly, looking up at gerard from the till.

“oh, um, y-yeah, that'd be nice, thank you.” he said, awkwardly. though really, when was anything he did not awkward with this guy? he put his card away, turning around right as his stomach rumbled, and quite loudly too. he slapped a hand over his mouth, his cheeks burning a bright red as he found himself unable to move as he procesessed what had just happened. his internal monologue a string of 'fuckfuckfuck'.

frank simply watched him from behind the counter, grinning as he saw how red he'd turned. he got up, going into the backrooms to tell someone else to come to the till before going over to gerard. “cmon, lets go get something to eat. im starving, too.” he started walking out the doors, waiting for the older man to catch up before walking with him to his favorite café. 

“so, what's your name? im frank, obviously, but you never told me yours.”

“gerard.” he mumbled, not really in the mood for a conversation, though frank had his mind set upon finding out everything he could about him for whatever reason.

“gerard? what are you, forty?” 

“twenty, actually.”

“holy fucking christ, you're old.”

“how old are you?”

“nineteen.” and there he was again, with his shit eating grin, as he walked into the café, sitting down at a table in the corner as gerard sat opposite him, trying to avoid eye contact. he'd never really been that great with people, whether it was from his inability to hold a conversation for more than five minutes, or simply from the fact that he hated the majority of people who tried to talk to him. or even look at him. back home, pretty much the only exception to this was mikey but he wasn't here anymore. it was just gerard and this annoying ass kid who works at the furniture store. 

and somehow, this stupid fucking furniture store frank guy was still doing a better job than him at this- whatever this was. shit, what even was this? what was he doing hanging around with this kid he barely knew, when he had stuff he had to buy and a brother he really wanted– no, needed– to call? was this a date or just good customer service? gerard shook his head and looked around the café.

it was nicer than what he'd been used to at home. it was more...homey? posters for gigs were scattered on most of the walls and almost all the people sat on the other seats and staff seemed like someone who could be genuinely interesting to talk to (in theory).

where he'd grown up was filled with carbon-copy starbucks or diners with blinding white lights and polystyrene cups that made all the coffee taste terrible. he and his brother (and the very few other people he didn't forget how to speak around) usually took to hanging out at someones house or the mall instead. it was nice to be somewhere with personality, somewhere that he'd never been before.

he soon came back to earth when he heard frank say his name. “were you listening?” gerard shook his head shamefully. “thats okay! so, i was saying they make really good french toast– hey, why are you laughing?” frank looked confused as the older man started giggling.

“its just that–” gerard calmed himself down a little, taking a deep breath. “i tried to make toast this morning. nearly burnt the place down.” he erupted into another fit of giggles as he saw frank's face.

“how do you burn toast–? toast. like. like toast? you managed to burn toast?” gerard nodded, taking a deep breath and smiled softly. 

it felt nice, you know; he hadn't properly laughed like that in ages. 

frank ordered for them both, the waitress seeming to know him pretty well. they both had french toast, eating in silence except from when frank asked gerard how it was, receiving a moan and an “its so fucking good, dude.”

once they'd finished they sat there and talked for about an hour, ordering another coffee each before deciding to leave. frank wanted to give gerard a tour of the city, and who was he to complain? he could barely find the way to his apartment.

*

the streets looked more appealing at dusk. the sky was that dark blue colour and the lights of the buildings and lampposts illuminated the pavement where they were walking, side by side, frank was occasionally nudging gerard when he laughed (which was a lot, though usually at his own jokes.)

they walked across the main street of the town, frank pointing out different places which would have seemed unnoticeable, but still had a sort of story to him: for example, a curb where he'd fallen on his face, an alley he'd pissed in, and of course, the place he got his first few tattoos done. nothing that held the secrets of the universe or anything, but it was still fascinating to gerard to hear about. 

he fucking hated admitting it, but this guy, despite his dumb fucking smile and the fact he couldn't have been more than 5 feet tall, was actually pretty nice to be around.

though of course, gerard was gerard at the end of the day, and even though he was starting to be his normal self around frank, (who pretty much only mikey and himself knew) he kept tripping up on his words, and feet, whenever frank smiled at him. 

and he was starting to believe frank was doing it on purpose. he knew what he was doing, he had to know.

and he did.

frank knew exactly what he was doing, and he loved it. he loved seeing the small blush that would appear on gerards cheeks, and how he would trip over his words. he found it adorable; though he wouldn't ever admit it.


End file.
